Training
by 13x
Summary: Late at night two Padawans train...800 word short. Siri TachiObi-Wan Kenobi if you squint.


Block.

Slash.

Dodge.

Parry.

Flip.

Spin.

Strike.

Roll.

Strike again. Twist.

_Sith!_

In a darkened training room, in the Jedi Temple, lightsabers clashed in arcs of blue and violet. They were the only lights in the room, save for the lights of the Coruscantan night and the few dim glowpanels that were lit during the Temple sleep-period.

Two opponents faced off in the shadows again and again, alternating between stunning offense and impenetrable defense. Both watched for openings in the other's technique, while covering their own. Both had learned well. And both were nearly evenly matched.

Nearly.

There was a fraction of an opening and it was quickly taken advantage of. The violet lightsaber flashed as it wielder stepped up the attack. The blue blade became a blur of motion, staving off the furious assault. Suddenly, the blades locked. In a test of strength, the wielder of the blue lightsaber surely would have won.

But this was not a test of strength.

A deft twist of the violet weapon sent the blue flying away. Before it could be called back to its owner, the violet blade came to rest at its opponent's throat, eliciting a mental curse.

"Kill point." Siri Tachi stood over Obi-Wan Kenobi, her lightsaber smugly at his throat. "Good match."

It had been, and a long one, too. Obi-Wan had nearly beaten her. If he hadn't come out of his roll at the wrong time, they might have been dueling for _another_ three hours. She could just imagine to looks on their Masters' faces if they had had to come searching for their Padawans at 0700 and finding them in the middle of a fight that had started over six hours before.

"So, Super-Siri wins again," Obi-Wan said from the floor.

"Yeah, and you lose again."

"One of these days, I _will_ beat you."

"You wish, Obi-_Wannabe,_" She retorted. The truth was, he almost had, but he wasn't allowed to know that.

Obi-Wan just smiled. He really didn't mind losing to Siri. He knew that even though he was two years her senior, the seventeen-year-old girl was by far the superior swordsman.

Siri saw right through that smile of his. She knew he was planning something, but she hadn't figured out _what_.

Yet.

Obi-Wan's voice broke into her thoughts. "May I get up now?"

"Of course you can get up," she said. "Nothing's keeping you there.

"Oh really," he answered. "Nothing but the threat of decapitation."

"Wha-?" She looked down. Her lightsaber was still across his neck. "Oh, yeah." Blushing, Siri deactivated her weapon and extended a hand to help him up.

She had no warning. Obi-Wan grasped her hand and pulled her down, calling his lightsaber back to him as he did so. Siri landed on top of him with her left hand still in his and both her lightsaber and her other hand pinned against his chest, facing her. His lightsaber was activated across the back of her neck.

Of course he avoided her muja-blond hair. She'd kill him if he burned it of.

Then again, if looks could kill, Obi-Wan's wouldn't have to worry about missing Siri's hair. Her ice-blue eyes told him he would already have been dead. A long time ago.

After a brief staring contest, he spoke.

"So, it appears that I have won after all."

"After _the fact_," she bit out. But she had a hard time suppressing a laugh. She thumped his chest in a reasonable simile of a friendly punch, considering their position. "Come on, let me up."

Obi-Wan laughed, deactivated his lightsaber, and helped Siri up. She in turn helped _him_, and then punched him again.

"Nice try, Obi-Wan." He feigned a hurt look. She made a face and indicated a door at the far side of the immense training room. "I'll race you."

She ran.

"Hey, no fair!" Obi-Wan called after her as he began to run, his cinnamon colored braid flying behind him.

She laughed. _He is so thick._

_Not as thick as some people think!_

Siri pulled back in surprise as his voice rang through her mind. This allowed him to catch up. Neither of these things were supposed to happen; but then, nothing around her friend ever stayed the way they were supposed to.

Obi-Wan, oblivious, started laughing as well, something he rarely did anymore. Now it was a _real_ race.

The training room rang with their mirth as they nearly collided at the door to the balcony. Still laughing, they sat back-to-back on the inner rail to catch their breath, wits, and the amazing view above Coruscant.


End file.
